A Long Road to Travel
by CharlotteElbourne
Summary: Five years after the death of his beloved, Gabriel is broken and lost... until he meets another woman who is in need of his help. But when Dracula returns, will he be able to save her, or will he lose another love? DraculaxOCxGabriel love triangle R&R!
1. Chapter 1 The Meeting

**Authors note: **Yay! I finally got it posted! I've been wanting to post this story for so long, and I'm so glad I got the first chapter up… squees I hope that you all like it, and I will update as soon as I can and try to make it sound really good… P

* * *

Chapter One

The Meeting

It didn't matter where you were in the world... Winter was extremely cold, even to the undead. Thankfully the skies had given the land a break, not letting it rain or snow for at least a couple days now. The ground was muddy with slush and water from past days, even as wind whipped around and tried to solidify the muck into terra firma once again. Traveling on roads at night in this weather, even at its break, was a foolish thing to do, but sometimes it couldn't be helped, especially when it was a good distance between two towns. Thankfully, however the city of Vienna was close at hand, and any traveler that was close would not have to wander far before they could find a place to rest their weary head down. Vienna itself was a peaceful city, despite some nighttime annoyances now and then. Most would turn a blind eye to whatever occurred, preferring not to know what went bump in the night outside, and hoping to God that it did not come inside.

Outside the town, lead by the moonlight above, a cloaked figure was making its weary way down the slushy road, its sights set on the town and what awaited inside. The glow of the heavens above didn't help anyone, if there was someone about, see who the cloaked figure was, for their features remained in the shadows, more for warmth than stealth. Snow stuck to the person's pure black boots, caking them with debris, mud, snow, and anything else that was likely to get picked up from the ground. A hassle to clean, but not too big of a deal. A wind gusted over the person, letting the cloak's hood flap back, revealing a woman with startling features. Tied back in a loose braid with a silk black ribbon were waves of dark crimson hair, reflecting the light dimly as if it refused to accept it. In contrast, the woman's eyes were a dark green that seemed to shine from beneath her hair, which had annoyingly swept in front of her face. A scowl was on her face from this, but it was not the only thing that had upset her mood. Another night in the wilderness, and the woman would have been unable to be dealt with.

"If I have to stay out here for another week, I will go mad…" she said to herself, closing her eyes to try and calm herself down. Spending a week outdoors without finding a town or a good place to lodge had irritated her nerves to no end, and she was hopeful to find a place in the city where she would be able to get a good bowl of soup and a nice bed to lay in. Maybe a fire and some coals under her bed to unfreeze her frozen toes. It wasn't as if she did not like the outdoors, it was just if you have too much of something good, it becomes bad and can have ill effects on oneself. Gripping the cloak tighter around her lithe form, the woman tried to conserve as much energy as she could to keep her core warm. Her hands were already numb, and the night still had several more hours to go. Desperately wishing she had brought that lantern now, she shook her head. Bringing light through the countryside without any good defenses was very stupid. Even if they were only legends, there was no telling just what was lurking out there, and any source of light was like a beacon to them. It drew whatever it was in the shadows to the carrier, and that was something she did not want to deal with at the moment, or at least not yet… The woman took out a dried piece of meat, feeling her stomach growl at her. Scrunching up her nose to is, she knew that her stomach would not be able to handle much more of dried, tasteless venison. Gulping, she put it into her mouth and bit down, feeling her stomach roll. Forcing herself, she chewed it all and swallowed, making a mental note to buy something else to eat on her travels. The woman had taken adequate money with her, so there was no problem of worrying about running out of funding, it was just the problem of finding sustenance that would not make her keel over if she consumed it…

With the town now coming into sight, the woman could give a small sigh of relief. Her hopes of that warm bed and good food made her face light up, quickening her movements as much as her cold limbs would allow her. The thought of hot soup on her tongue and a roaring fire at her back made her shiver, sending goose bumps down her arms and legs. The shiver warmed her body slightly, but it would not last long. She needed to get somewhere inside and away from the wind if she truly wanted to feel comfortable. The gates to the town were only a few paces away, their wood almost worn looking with what appeared to be rust covered hinges and locks. No one was manning them, so she stepped herself right through them and onto the main street of Vienna. The entire town was quite, not a soul she could see was up. Who would be? It was a little after midnight, and everyone who was smart enough was safe inside their homes, tucked under the covers of their beds and fast asleep. The only ones she thought would be up would be the beggars, or the drunkards who filtered into taverns even during the day. Most of the time it was best to avoid them, unless you wanted some stinking male coming after you…

The bottom of her boots made some thudding sounds, even with the slightly raised heals. Water ran between the cobblestones, mixing with dirt and the occasional human foulness. It was common for a city to smell of sewage, but here it was not as bad. There had been many a city or town that stank from miles away, warning off many animals that would think to come in and have a taste of the humans. Thankfully, Vienna was one of the cleaner ones, so she would not have to deal with such filth. Walking down the side of the street, a few papers had been tossed carelessly onto the ground, now too sopping wet to be legible. Whatever information that had been on them was now long gone, so it was no use to pick them up and try to make sense of them. Stepping over them, as she did not wish to have them too on her boots, the woman continued down, looking for any signs that any of the buildings would be an inn, or even a tavern would do. There was some wood on the floor, but she bypassed that as well, continuing down for a while. The shops and homes that lined the place were dark and quiet, with only one or two of them having a light in the window. Vaguely wondering if they were looking out at her when she looked up through them, she quickly adverted her gaze so that they would not notice her too much. Attention was the last thing she wanted.

The street began to get narrower, suggesting to her that either it was getting smaller, or she had turned down a wrong way and was now entering an ally. Remembering everything she had gathered about towns and the like, ally's were not the best place for a woman at night. However, she could not hear anything except the strike of her boots, and the smell of drunken men did not exist here… So she was relatively safe, and weren't ally ways normally void of any homes or doors? She could see that they continued on the same, just as the street early did… it was a good sign, because normally that meant that there was an inn close at hand. Or at least, that had always been the case before in the other places she had seen. Another wind blew across the woman, making her shiver yet again. _Where the hell is the inn?_ she thought angrily to herself. Knowing that there should at least be a sign somewhere to tell her of the building she was looking for, she kept her eyes on the places above the doors, trying to make out the words of any she saw in the light from the moon above...

* * *

Two lamps gave off a dim light in the small tavern, allowing the late goers and the owner to be able to see whatever was going on without too much trouble, although it would be considerably harder for the drunks to see with their blurry vision. The place was one of the more less kept taverns, with the furniture not being the best and the alcohol being served not the best tasting. Still, it worked for a few who could not afford the more expensive ways to waste your life away. Boards were nailed where windows used to be, saving time and money of having them replaced after all the fights that would break out. Glass wasn't cheap, not even in Vienna. The actually tavern itself was located in the basement, so that anything that was considered illegal could be dealt without the known public being aware. The Black Market usually conducted their business there, which was well known to the Bounty Hunters that would raid it from time to time, looking for rapists, murderers, and the occasional kidnapper. Anyone that came in was looked at with a suspicious eye, and would have to keep wary, lest they get into a fight and forfeit their life for foolishness. A lot of criminals would hang out down there, but sometimes it was no good and they would be caught and brought to justice in the light of the day.

The tavern's keeper stood behind the counter, cleaning a glass mug as most of them are usually doing. He had a nasty look about him, a mustache that looked more like wire than actual human hair, and a scar running down the right side of his face, which explained why he never opened his eye, or never could open his eye. With an actually dirty looking apron on, he walked over and placed a glass mug of Vodka in front of a customer, a coin being flipped in his direction and caught in greedy hands. At the end of the counter, there was a man sitting with his hat pulled down over his eyes. He wore a long leather duster that looked worn, but very strong. It must have suffered through a lot of battles, what with all the cuts and sewing it had on it. In the man's hand was an almost empty glass of absinthe, his free hand laying restfully on the side of his hip, where a pistol was concealed. It was wise to bring a weapon of some kind to protect yourself, but it wasn't always wise to show it off, lest you attract unwanted attention. Any thief in the tavern would love to kill you and take whatever you posses to later filter it off for a profit of some kind. The man's eyes, if one was too look at them, seemed glassed over. He was drunk , but not enough to not know where he was, and therefore he knew what was going on around him more than others thought. The man had fled from where he had come from, hoping to drink away his problems in rundown taverns and inns, not wanting to see the light of day as long as he could help it. His heart was broken, and his soul was miserable…

Across the room, a couple of men had been watching the man with his hat, their glares of pure hatred seething from them like a wave of red. He could feel them looking at him, but he made no motion to let them know he knew. If they had a problem with him, well, then let them take him on. He was not at his full capacity to fight, but he would do his best so that he could just be left alone. One of them men looked as if he had finally had enough, and tromped over to the man and grabbed him on the shoulder.

"You have some nerve to come in here, you murderer!" he said, and with the help of the other men that had come up behind without a sound, they managed to lift the man from his seat and carry him to the door. Struggling, the man tried to get away from their grips, but they launched him out through the closed door and into the streets with a shatter of wood. Tumbling, the man hit the ground and tried to orient himself. His vision was blurred, but he could see the men come out with the grins on their faces. Immediately, they began to beat him, kick him, and any number of things while he lay down on the ground. The man tried to protect himself, reaching for his pistol, but was kicked repeatedly in his gut. The sudden loss of air in his lungs from the hit made him gasp out, his eyes wide with the pure pain that racked his body.

"Good for nothing murderer!" one of the men yelled, "Not so tough now are ya?" he yelled, kicking him again in the face and the gut.

"We out to kill you right here and now, just like all the victims you killed!" another man yelled, taking out a knife that looked slightly rusted. He raised his hand, the knife pointing down at the fallen man…

* * *

The small street was completely silent, and the woman found that she was becoming lost in the turns and twists that lead through the town of Vienna. Getting agitated, and colder by the second, the woman continued her way, her eyes becoming tired from squinting at all the signs that she read. The noiseless atmosphere was beginning to make her nervous, for she knew that there should be _some_sound, even if it was a cat meowing its dying hunger somewhere in a dark place. She needed the comfort that something was not stalking her, or watching her every movement. The woman kept herself on alert for any movement, or any scrap of a sound, wanting to be prepared should the worst thing come to light. Being familiar with what people would call 'strange' or 'legends', she was used to thinking about what could be out there. Werewolves, specters, goblins, she had seen the like, even though she would prefer not to deal with them if at all possible. If, she would have the off chance of coming across something of the like, the only action she would take against it would to be to protect herself. If she could get away without a scratch, and lose whatever was trying to kill her, than that would be alright in her book.

Sighing to herself, the woman turned down another ally way when a sounding crash came to her ears. Splintering wood, by the sound of it, and a thud with some shouts… they were male voices for sure, and they sounded angry. Her curiosity peaked, the woman made her way carefully towards the commotion, turning a corner and seeing what exactly was going on. From her vantage point, her eyes could pick up a lump on the ground, that looked like a person trying to protect themselves from the several men shaped figures that were kicking it repeatedly. The words shouted were jumbled, but by the anger in the tone, she could only assume that it was nothing good at all. Each kick, each punch reverberated on the walls of the buildings ten fold, and she could swear she heard the snapping of bones as well. How cruel they were being to the poor man! Assuming that it just might be a drunk that had not paid, she glared at the men who attacked him. In no way was it fair for them to gang up on him, and she knew that she had to do something.. But what? When a glint of a knife came into view, she knew she had to act. Resting on her hip, beneath her cloak, was a weapon that she had carried with her as long as she could remember. It was a leather whip, a little worn but still a sting to be messed with. Now taking a run towards them, she unfurled the whip and lashed it out, the tip swirling around the man's lifted hand that held the knife. After a moment of it securing itself, she grabbed the handle of her whip and yanked the man's arm back, rotating her shoulders to get the maximum power out of it as she could. The man gave out a grunt in surprise as his arm was pulled back painfully. He had a look of rage on his face as he saw who had done it.

"I suggest you let the man go…" said the woman, her eyes looking deadly as she held indefinitely onto his wrist. She looked fierce and determined, but her heart hammered in her chest with the adrenaline one gets right before a battle of any kind. The angst she felt intensified with each passing moment, realizing that it would be hard for her to come out of these without injuries, or even her life. Cursing herself inside her mind, she knew she should have been more prepared, but the thought of the man dying with being beat up had made her temper flare. The other men that had continued to kick the fallen man had stopped and turned to see who had dared interfere. A smile rose in their faces, seeing that it had been a woman. Their eyes glinted, and the woman couldn't help but want to shudder at their attention to her. Her whip let go of the man's wrist, coming to snap back at her side and lay against the ground. The snap had made them all wince, for it had been such a loud noise in what had been such a quite atmosphere. It was an effect she had wanted, but it did not seem to stir them too much.

"This ain't none of yer affar, now back off or we'll take to yeh next!" the man with the knife said, rubbing his wrist where her whip had left a mark.

No woman does this to me!" called out, while another yelled "She's next anyways!". They seemed intent on dealing with her right then more than the fallen man, since two of them brought out a second knife and a pistol. The knives she wasn't worried about, it was the pistol. As good as she was at defending herself, she was not bullet proof, and a pistol anywhere to her core would surely kill her, especially since she knew not of a place that could treat such a wound. Becoming more wary by the second, she tensed up, raising her right hand which held her weapon to show them she was not about to back down now. The fallen man groaned from the pain that covered his body, and he tried to roll onto his back, becoming now conscious, for he had been out a while before. The man opened his eyes to try and see why the beatings had stopped, but closed them quickly again in pain when one of the thugs had thumped him in the ribs again, making him call out in apparent agony.

"You move and you won't move again!" he said to the curled up man, turning his attention back to the young woman before him. Thinking to herself, the woman knew that she was in for it. _I've made them angry… too angry…_she thought to herself, knowing that when men get angry, all common sense floods out of their brains and leaves them with just their instincts of killing and survival. With the five of them, she knew she could not take them all on, but at least she would be able to take down a couple. They would not stop because she was a woman, so hoping for pity would just be a waste of time. Instead, she took a few steps forwards, defiance in her eyes as she spoke up to them, contempt in her seething voice.

"You all are cowards for attacking a man who has no weapon to defend himself with!" she paused, looking down at the fallen man with sympathy in her eyes. He looked almost helpless, and the pain he must have endured seemed to move her heart enough to want to kick all of the men where it hurt the most.

"Get up, stranger…. Show these men how a true man fights…" she said to him, confidence in her voice, despite the shakiness of her heart. Not waiting for an answer from him, and not really expecting one at all, she turned her full attention back to the group of less than human beings, her stance becoming more well guarded, waiting for when they would try and take her down. She was ready, and she would not hold back if she could help it…

* * *

**Authors Note: **Well, there it is.. I hope you like it, and want to read more! Please read and respond, and I will answer any questions when I post the next chapter! 


	2. Chapter 2 Wounded

**Authors Note: **I know you all want to know what happens to poor Van Helsing, and want to know how the fight turns out, so now you all get to find out! J I hope it is to your liking… Also, sorry for taking so long on the update… the new term started for my college, and I've been so busy… x…x

* * *

Chapter Two

Wounded

The woman's heart was pounding, the blood coursing through her system as fast as it could to oxygenate her cells. She could barely hear anything besides the constant rhythm, and tried her hardest to concentrate on the situation at hand. If she failed, there was no doubt in her heart that these men would slaughter her into pieces, if not have fun with her first. She would be damned if she allowed that to happen, and plus… the man depended on her now, even if he didn't think so. He was on the floor in writhing in pain, and who knew what the extent of his injuries was. It was best that she end this as fast as she could and go to his aid, before something worse happened to them both. With a glare that could melt glass, the woman peered at the men, just as they stared back at her. Neither party was willing to start the fight, wanting to wait for the other to foolish rush into it. Sweat started to roll down the woman's forehead, soaking her cloak's edge, as well as her clothes beneath. She could see that the men were also perspiring s much as she was. _Good… they know that I'm not just someone to trifle with… _she thought. With a gulp, she knew if she did not start it, something might happen that would be to the disadvantage of her and her newfound comrade on the ground. Raising her whip, the woman stepped forwards… but halted.

A crack sounded in the air, and one of the men, who had been standing the closest to the fallen man, cried out in pain. He was clutching the back of his knee, as if he had been cut or shot and could no longer stand up. Curses streamed from his mouth as his comrades turned around to see what had happened to their friend. The man on the ground, who had been apparently watching the entire scene, had been waiting for this opportunity to get his two cents in. He had had his eyes closed, but when he saw that a fight was to ensue, he had decided that this was his time to act. The injured thug apparently had not been paying attention to him, rather on the woman, and had not seen it happen before it was too late. The other thugs were outraged, and the one who had the pistol began to shout orders. Two of them came after the woman, while the other three went for the fallen man. Even though his body ached all over, the man struggled with his attackers, fending them off the best he could.

The woman had started to have second doubts about the fighting. Thinking that she should have just stayed out of the fight, she backed up still in a defensive position. With the two men coming after her, she growled and unfurled her whip again, letting it crack in the air. Again they flinched… that was all she needed. Stepping forwards and to the side, she dodged one of their lunges and cracked her weapon at the second's chest, leaving a nasty bleeding wound that sent him to his knees with a cry. It may have been old, but that whip was still as deadly as when she had first gotten it. Without hesitating, she turned around and kicked her right leg out, catching him in the lower gut with her boot. She was not without fault, for the man had lashed out with his knife, leaving a gash in her leg a foot long. It immediately began to bleed, the crimson liquid spilling onto the cobblestone road. Pain seared through her leg, but her adrenaline kept her from crying out because of it. _Damn… this isn't good… _she thought. A cut on her leg would hinder her movements indefinitely, and it also meant that she would not be able to dodge attacks as much as she would have liked to. Before the man could steady himself, she used her injured leg, much to her discomfort, to pull the man's right leg out from under him. The man crashed to the floor, and the woman went to him, stepping on his groin as hard as she could. He howled with pain, causing a small smirk to appear on her lips. _Serves him right…_she thought. Turning, she narrowly avoided being punched in the face by the second attacker. His swing missed, causing his whole body to lunge forwards and become unbalanced. _It always takes more force to swing and miss, than to swing and hit… _she remembered someone telling her once. Taking advantage of the situation, she grabbed his leg and forced her palm into the back of his knee, knocking him to the ground as well. Immediately, she hit him while he was down, kicking him in the gut.

"Serves you right…" she said with gritted teeth…

_BANG_

The woman froze, hearing the gunshot ring through the air, echoing in her ears for what seemed tenfold than what it actually was. Her blood turned ice cold in her veins, her heart skipping a beat at the terrifying sound. Waiting, her breath suddenly stilled as she inhaled. When she did not feel the bullet enter her flesh and tear through her core, the woman looked over her own body, desperately trying to see if it had entered her without her knowing it. For all she knew, it could have caused such a shock that the pain had yet to register in her nerves. She could be bleeding out and not even know it… No.. the only thing that was bleeding was the gash in her leg… that meant…

Turning around, she saw that her newfound comrade had been shot. To make matters worse, it had been in the side, a belly wound, and one of the deadliest to ever get. Stomach wounds were the hardest to keep from bleeding, and caused death soon after they had been acquired was fairly common. The man's cloak had a whole in it, from which she could see his blood seeping out from. It was bleeding badly, and that meant that he would bleed out soon if he did not get any attention to it. The fight needed to end now, before any more damage was done. Despite his injuries, and to her amazement, the man kept fighting. He pulled a knife, from where she knew not, and with force she thought not capable of him, drove it into the heart of his attacker. The man was dead before he hit the ground. If any of the other thugs survived, they had gone, limping away with their wounded pride and hateful stares.

"Stranger!" the woman called out, hurrying over to his side as fast as she could with her own injuries. She had hoped that they both could have come out of this scuffle without wounds, but it didn't seem likely that that would ever happen in a fight, especially with so many foes to deal with. Despite the coldness, she felt warm from the rush of adrenaline, and the fresh blood on her leg was warm and sticky, but stung like hell even though it was becoming numb. She was more worried for the man, for he had started to lean up against the wall. By the looks of him, he was losing blood fast, and his gate was becoming alarmingly unsteady. Laying his head back against the wall, the man closed his eyes, his breathing labored and racked with pain apparent by the winces he took when he inhaled. He knew it was bad, but that didn't stop him from joking to himself. He couldn't believe it, that with all of the people that could of helped, he got saved by a woman. There was only one other person that he would have ever allowed to save him… and she was dead. Sudden memories of his former love made his heart yank in his chest, and he desperately tried to push it from his mind.

"It's just a scratch…." he said, opening one eye as the woman's mouth snapped shut. He smirked, knowing what she had been going to say. He himself could feel how bad the wound was, but he was never one to admit that he was injured. It was just in his nature, and it wasn't as if he was going to tell some strange woman that he was becoming more weak by the second. The pain in his side was numbing, thankfully, but that didn't mean it was going away…

"I'm alright…." he said with a grunt, but she wasn't buying it in the slightest. Grabbing his hand, she moved it without his consent to see how bad the actual wound was. Leaning in closer, she moved the jacket with her free hand, fresh blood oozing out of the bullet wound. It hadn't been as bad as she had thought. The bullet had entered in the far right of his side, most likely missing any internal organs. It was a good sign, for it meant that recovery was possible. She replaced the jacket over the wound and pressed her gloved hand against it, hoping to stop the bleeding as much as she could until she could treat it properly.

"You will live…" she said, giving him a small smirk, "but you need the wound to be treated now…" The man slumped to the floor all of a sudden with a groan, his legs giving out on him. His strength was weak, and that was a bad sign. Bending down, she slung his left arm over her shoulder, and using her legs to push herself up, was able to lift his body enough to where she could walk without too much problems. Looking to the inn, she could see faces peering out. They had apparently been watching the entire fight with curiosity, not even bothering to come out and help the poor man from his attackers. With a glare, she called out to them,

"Come out and help me carry him inside…." she said, her voice more forceful than she thought it had been. A few faces disappeared from view, but later came back when the door to the inn opened. Several men came out to meet her as she hobbled over to them. The wounded man had lost consciousness, making it slightly easier to maneuver him into the inn. The woman followed the group as they headed upstairs, wondering if he would die before she had a chance to fix him up.

The stairs beneath their feet creaked, showing that this building was old, but still useful. There were cobwebs in the corners of the ceiling, and she could see dust on the floor. Scrunching her nose, she looked up to see one of the men opening a door and all of them going inside. Following quickly, she came inside just as they were laying him down on a spare bed. It didn't look that comfortable, but it was better than nothing. She had not seen another inn in the entire city, so this was as good as it got for them.

"Bring me some bandages and a needle and thread… and some hot water and a cloth…" she said, immediately going over to the bedside with a spare stool. The woman ripped off the man's ruined undershirt, taking more care to remove his jacket. His face was pale, but death had yet to take him under his wing. With a frown, she checked out the wound for a second time. It was still bleeding, but it had lessened. Hot water was placed on a small table to her left, as well as everything else she had asked for. Grabbing a cloth, she dipped it into the water and began to wipe away the blood and dirt from his side, taking care not to agitate the flesh anymore than she needed to.

Behind her, one of the men lit a fire, to warm up the room from the coldness. Another closed the window, the draft that had been circling the room coming to a halt. She could feel the heat on her back, liking the warmth that it gave her. It had been very cold outside, and it was a relief to be inside where she knew she could not be affected by the elements. The wound was now cleaned, so she placed the red cloth back into the water, where it immediately began to change it to a dark crimson color. Taking up the needle and thread, she began to fix the man up as much as she could, starting by removing the bullet, which cause a grunt from the unconscious man. It hadn't penetrated too far, thankfully, and was easy to remove. Suturing the inside of the wound, she worked her way to the outside. A man offered her a hot tipped metal prod. She pressed it to what she had just fixed, the flesh burning to cauterize the wound. The smell offended her nose horribly, but she kept going.

It took a couple more stitches, and another burning of the flesh, but the woman was finally able to close his wound. Now, the only thing left was to bandage the wound… It was easy enough, with the help of the man who gave her the metal prod. He held him up, while she wrapped the bandages tight, but not too tight around his middle. Now the man was resting comfortably on the bed. He would survive.

"Miss, what about you?" one of them asked. She couldn't understand what he was talking about as she turned to stand, but then she felt it. A searing pain in her leg. Looking down, she noticed the wound the knife had made on her leg. It wasn't that deep, but it did need attention if she didn't want an infection to settle in. Sitting down again, she fixed herself up with left over bandages, tying it off in a knot. The bandage could be seen through where the knife had cut the cloth on her leggings.

"No cauterizing?" he asked, an eye brow lifted.

"I'm not _that_ brave…" she said with a snicker. The woman turned to look at the resting man, her face somewhat calmer than before. He needed his rest, but she wondered who he was and why those thugs had attacked him in the first place. She would have to wait until he awoke, so for now, she closed her own eyes and sighed to herself.

* * *

**Authors Note: **Heheh…. Want to know if Gabriel will make it? Well, you'll have to wait until the next update! I promise I will not take as long as I did with this on… hopefully…


	3. Chapter 3 Introductions

**Authors Note:** I'm sorry for taking so long… I've just not had the inspiration to churn out this chapter very much… please forgive me. I'll try my hardest to get more updates quicker.. Also, I will be going this summer for two months to California, so I won't be posting any chapters then, but afterwards I'll shell out a whole bunch! Oh, and if you can guess what movie the quote I used in the last chapter was, kudos for you!

* * *

Chapter Three

Introductions

A flame roared in the room, flickering light over the end stand, the chair, and the bed. It's warmth filled the place, protective of the two people inside from the cold touches of the air outside. An ember, every now and then, would be flung from the hearth into the air, but would fizzle out on the ground or burn out before it ever landed. To her, it always was soothing, especially after a long, trying day. And today had definitely been a long, trying day. Both of them had been injured, one more serious than the other, and she still had no idea who this man was. Definitely, he was someone that people knew about, but since she had not seen the fight start, she couldn't be sure of who he was. The woman would ask him, but not until he was awake and away from death's door. Not knowing if that would happen, she had kept a vigil by him, watching his breathing patterns and making sure he did not pass away in his sleep. _You seem to be tougher than this, stranger _she thought, sitting back in the only chair in the room, taking a sip of some water one of the inn keepers had brought up for her and for the unconscious man for when he awoke. It wasn't cold, but it did refresh her more than she thought it would have. A few rivulets passed down her chin as she drank a couple more sips, feeling better each time she did. Crossing her leg over the other, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes, holding the glass in her lap, making sure not to move in case she spilled it.

A sudden moan caught her off guard and she jumped slightly, water splashing out of the cup. Sitting up and placing the flask onto the end table, the woman saw that the man was stirring. _So he made it…_she said inwardly, her eyes smiling. He indeed was a tough man. Standing up, she pulled the chair closer to his bedside and sat down once again. The man groaned again, his eyes fluttering open, cloudy and hazy. She could tell he was still in pain, but that couldn't be helped right then. It had been two hours or more since she had patched him up. It was remarkable that he had awoken so early, when most would be out for days. Reaching over to the end table, she grabbed a cloth and drenched it in a bowl of ice water. Wringing it gently, the woman wiped at his forehead, where sweat beads had accumulated on his brow. He jerked when the ice touched his skin, but relaxed after a few moments, feeling it numb his head. At least his headache was going away. The man had bruises all over his body, and she was surprised he had not broken a rib, or any other bone.

"So you're finally awake…. You were lucky, you almost didn't make it…" she said to him, continuing to cool him down with the cloth, getting it wet whenever the cloth turned warm. She could feel even through the thick cloth that his forehead was hot. Had she not been able to prevent an infection? Or maybe it was just the heat of the room that made him feel so warm. The fire was intense, and she had even taken off her gloves and boots to cool herself down. Opening a window was out of the question, especially with how cold it was outside, so they had to deal with the heat. It would be good for him anyways… A warm forehead meant that his body was fighting whatever infection had settled in. He would just have to rest for a longer recovery time than most. The man's eyes cleared up slightly, and he looked around the room. In a frantic manner, he sat up and reached for his pistol that had been at his hip, but frowned when he found it gone. All of his weapons, in fact, that had been on him had been removed and now sat on a table on the other side of the room. As he had sat up, the woman had leaned back, a little surprised at how much he could move with a wound like that. Immediately the man regretted it, falling back onto the pillow with a grunt of pain. If he wasn't careful, he could reopen the gun shot wound she had closed, and bleed all over again. He tried to sit up again, despite his pain, but she held a hand on his chest to keep him down. After a while, she removed it and looked at him.

"You carry a lot of strange weapons…." she inquired, perking an eyebrow at the man as she wiped at his forehead again. The cloth was warm by this time, so she dipped it in cold water again, wringing it again to get rid of the excess water.

"I have met a lot of strange people…" he said in a hoarse voice, closing his eyes for a moment as he rested back. The pain in his side hurt like hell, but he did not show it besides the occasional gasp or scrunch of the face. He had dealt with pain before, and this would be no different… It was not new to him, by any sort. Pain seemed to travel with him, no matter where he went, no matter who he helped. Pain was a constant companion for life. After a few moments of silence as he dealt with his condition, he was finally able to open his eyes and see who it was that had saved him.

"Odd that a woman would carry a whip… It's almost as strange as what I carry…" he said, referring to the many 'interesting' weapons he had. A crossbow, holy water, crosses, and god knew what else were piled together. He had gotten most of them from the Vatican, and a few that he had found over his many travels to many places… Almost too many to count, or even remember. Hell, he could hardly remember anything from his past...

They were strong weapons, and very reliable in a desperate situation. He gazed to the whip that was tied to her side. It looked old and frayed, but he could tell that it had done its fair share of damage it its prime. Glad that he was not on the receiving end of it, he thanked her silently for being on his side, for the moment anyways. The woman dropped the cloth in the water and looked down to where he was staring. She gripped it in her hand, lifting it for him to see it more clearly.

"It's a good defense weapon, if you want to keep attackers at bay…" she commented, replacing it on her hip. The man couldn't help but wonder why she was dressed the way she had been. It was odd for someone to wear a loose white ruffle top with a black vest, even though it seemed to suit her more than some dress would. Most women he had seen had all be in skirts, and not very attractive ones at that. Peasants mostly, but he had seen a lady or two who wore fine gowns with silk brocade and gorgeous jewelry… why was she not the same? The woman dried her hands on her pants, which looked to be a more insulating material than leather, which was what he wore. In her travels, she found that her legs had caught the most of icy winds. It was always nice to have a pair of pants that kept you very warm even in the midst of snow and ice, or even rain. Unclipping the cloak that seemed to still be around her shoulders, she felt much cooler, tossing it onto the back of the chair she sat at. The cloak was slightly soaked with her sweat from the battle outside, and from the heat of the fire at her back. A pair of dark gloves sat on the end table, next to the bowl of water. It was a little warm for it, but she slid them over her fingers anyways, pulling on them to make sure they were snug and fitted. Her gloves were as worn as any of her other clothing, but they had withstood the test of time with her. The woman looked at the man, crossing her arms. Well, he was wide awake now, so she saw no better time to find out who he was…

"What is your name, Stranger?" she asked him, rather bluntly. She fully intended on getting an answer out of him, despite the look he was giving her. She only raised an eyebrow at him when he hesitated. _Now why would he do that?_ she wondered. If he was that reluctant to even tell her his name, then maybe he was someone she shouldn't be dealing with. The Lord only knows that was the last thing she wanted, some trouble that would end up getting her killed. But still, he seemed different than most of the thieves and scoundrels out there. Maybe she could trust him… After a pause, which seemed to take a while, he cleared his throat,

"Van Helsing… Gabriel Van Helsing." he said. Gabriel used his arms to help himself sit up. Laying down was becoming uncomfortable, especially with her sitting so close. Using the backboard of the bed as a prop, he adjusted himself into a comfortable position and looked at her once again. The blanket she had used to cover him up now only reached to below his chest. His shirt was gone still, he noticed a little too late, and it seemed the only thing that clothed his upper half was the bandages she had secured around his middle. His ego wasn't big enough for him to be embarrassed… that had gone a _long_ time ago… When he moved, he noticed his hat was missing as well. That made him a little more angry, but he let it pass. He wasn't exactly in the position to complain, at any rate. Being saved from a bunch of thugs, then getting shot, but somehow managing to survive… there just wasn't much you could do about it.

"Well, now you know my name. How about telling me the name of my rescuer?" he asked, perking an eyebrow at her. The woman had stood from her chair and had gone over to the fire. Grabbing a log, she tossed it onto the small inferno, poking some of the other already charred pieces of wood to bring them back to life. A few embers flew past her, but they did the same as all of the others did, and died in the air before they landed. Gabriel watched her, wondering if she was going to answer him or not. The woman placed the metal poker back on the side of the hearth, then straightened and turned around to meet his gaze. She gave him a half smile, a mere twitch of the upper lift as she crossed her arms and leaned up against the wall near the fire. Her features were hard to see, but he _could _see her outline. The fire gave off a soft glow in the room, leaving shadows in the corners and behind the furniture. So, he was the famous Van Helsing, bounty hunter for the Vatican and murderer of the innocent, or at least that was what everyone called him. They say he would hunt down innocent people and slaughter them, believing that they were evil creatures. Well, even if it was true that they were evil monsters, they always appeared human when they died. She could understand why they would all think him a murderer. They did not know any better… The woman scrunched her nose at him slightly. She didn't have too high of an opinion of him. How could she? This was the first time ever meeting him, and she had yet to understand just who he was, even with all the rumors and nasty stories surrounding him.

"My name is Iavera… that is all you need to know for now…" she said. Her trust in him would have to be earned, and not given lightly. Caution was one trait anyone should have. After all, it kept you alive in this world of theirs. No caution, and you might as well just forfeit your life. That was something she would _never_ do.

"What brings you to Vienna?" asked Iavera. Even though she did not trust him at the moment, she was very curious as to why he was there. It didn't seem like a man like Van Helsing would be in a place without some purpose to explain it. Traveling with no real destination wasn't a smart move, but she had to wonder if he had one at all. And if he did, then she was also curious as to what that was. Curiosity might get the better of her, but she ignored her conscience when it tried to tell her that, for now. Gabriel sighed, not really wanting to talk about why he was there. If he could help it, he would prefer to keep silent about it all, forgetting it in an empty shot glass and a hangover. That was what he was used to now a days, and he saw no reason to change it now. What he wouldn't give for a glass right now…

"I'm just drifting…" he said after a few moments of silence, "You know, through Europe, trying to avoid outlaws, bounty hunters, and anything else that seems fit to come after me…

"I don't know really where I'm going… my future isn't that bright ahead of me…" he said with another sigh, rubbing his eyes with one of his hands. His future… now that was something even he did not want to be a part of. Drinking until he fell down and could never get up, or being murdered by the people who thought him evil. That was what the days ahead held for him, he was sure. Gabriel refused to work for the Vatican again, vowing never to go there again, not for any price. They had sent him, he remembered, those five years ago to dispatch a vampire, and in the process of doing that, he had killed the woman he loved. _Anna… _he thought. It had been so long since he had thought of her, and the memory brought pain into his chest. He had killed her with his own hands. His _werewolf _hands. Gabriel had never forgiven himself for it, even if now she was with her family in heaven, and not in purgatory…

The woman had been watching him the entire time he had spoken, and she could tell there was something deeper within that he did not want to let out. His face, the way he spoke, and his expression told her that he had lost something very dear to him. No wonder he seemed like a broken man. That thought softened Iavera's heart towards the man, if just a little bit. Her face, however, didn't change it's expression towards him. Her features remained hard and unmoving. Pushing back off the wall, the woman moved to come closer to the man. The fire outlined her back, leaving her face encased in darkness. This man, this broken, hurting man, could he truly be the famous Van Helsing? The man who had slew Dracula himself, had turned into a werewolf and back again? She wondered if it really was him. A thought struck her… How could it _not _be him? He was a very clever actor, if he wasn't, but somehow she thought he wasn't acting…

"You're reputation proceeds you, Van Helsing." she said with a sarcastic smile.

"What did you say?" Gabriel suddenly said, his voice strained. The man stared at her, confusion held in his eyes. No, it wasn't possible… it couldn't be. Closing his eyes, he could see it clear as day. She was standing before him, hands on her hips and looking at him with those eyes of hers… those eyes that he would give anything to see again.

"_You're reputation proceeds you…" she said, looking at him with her hands on her hips. Anna turned to the crowd that had gathered around the friar and the bounty hunter, her eyes a light with what had happened._

"_He has been the first to slay a vampire in over a hundred years… I think that earns him a drink…"_

"Van Helsing?"

Gabriel shook his head from his reverie, opening his eyes to see Iavera standing at his bedside. She had a worried look on her face. When he had not responded to her first call of his name, she had come closer and had repeated it. He looked at her, still a little confused, wondering why all of a sudden he was now thinking of her, when he had done all he could to blot her from his memory. The woman huffed, going over to the table in the room. She had her back to him, so whatever it was that she was doing, he could not see. Gabriel was still mulling over why he had had the vision from the past, when he saw a glass before him. An aroma hit his nose, and he could tell that it was vodka. _Thank god…_he thought.

"Here," she said, handing him the glass, "It will help with the pain…" Gabriel immediately took it and downed the shot, scrunching up his face as it burned down his throat, then numbed his insides. The pain in his side died down enough to where he was comfortable once again. Leaning back against the headboard, he let out a long breath. Sitting down again on the chair, Iavera watched him as he rested.

"My reputation isn't as bad as it may seem," he lied as she poured more of the vodka into his glass. She tried to put the jar back on the table, but he grabbed her arm and removed it from her hand. With a smirk, he poured a little more and set the jar on his bedside stand. She only huffed and perked an eyebrow at him, but did not say anything about it. If he wanted it to dull the pain, who was she to deny him that? Leaning back against the chair, she let him continue.

"Thank you for saving me." he said softly, looking directly at her. It was not every day that a strange comes and saves you from being brutally beat up, and possibly killed. And it was just his luck that his savior happened to be a woman… and a beautiful one at that.

"You didn't have to do that for me. God knows that I didn't deserve it…" That got a confused look on her face. She couldn't understand why he would think that he was not worth rescuing. It didn't matter who was being beat up. A whole group against one, and especially one without any defense… she would have helped them anyways. The outcome might have been different, but she was sure she would have helped.

"But enough of wallowing in my self pity," he said, straightening, "As soon as I'm healed, I'll get going and get out of everyone's hair. Not sure where I will go, but…" he said. Gabriel had no idea where he would go from here. Probably another tavern in another city where he can get drunk and get beat up. Maybe then luck won't be on his side, and he could finally get free of all this torture and pain… Iavera gave the man a frown, apparently disapproving of everything he said. Self pity was something she firmly did not believe in, and if she was going to be the one taking care of him while he recovered, she would let him know that she would not accept it from him either. The frown remained even as she stood, stretching her legs. They had begun to cramp from the way she had been sitting. The blood was able to flow more easily now, but she could feel her leg sting from the gash that was trying to heal. With all of her moving around, she was surprised that it had not begun to bleed again as well. _I'll fix it up again if it does… _she thought, tossing the idea into the back of her mind.

"Maybe I will head out east…" said Van Helsing.

Iavera looked at him strangely. Nothing but forests and mountains lay to the east. The terrain that way was hard on one self, the mountains' rugged and since snow covered them most of the time, it would be cold and wet. She had just come from outside where it had _been _cold and wet, and it was something she did not want to trudge through. Not for a very long time.

"You can't go anywhere with those injuries. You could be attacked, and would be killed without too much trouble…" she said, stating the facts. He would be easy pray for anyone to kill, and with hindered movements, he could do no more than maybe dodge some attacks. If his wounds had been something else yes, he might have been able to take care of himself. But with the ones he had, it was just near impossible. It wasn't like she was going to let him go anyways. Iavera would make sure he stayed put until _she _was satisfied he could travel alone well enough. Sitting back, she watched him for a moment more.

"What is in the east that is so important?"

"Noting really…" he lied again. He knew damned well what was out east, but it was his own will to refuse accepting it. Gabriel wanted to go back, just once more, to where he knew he could at least be with her in some small way. Just simply being on that cliff, looking over that sea… It would be enough.

"I just hate sitting around and doing nothing. I can't stand it." That was true at least. There hadn't been a time where he was not on the move, be it for a job of for simply getting out of a town or city where people were becoming a little too hostile in his direction. Gabriel moved to grab the glass of the vodka again, but winced in pain as he moved the wrong way. The wound on his side lurched, and he felt a stab of pain run down his side. _Damn it.. _he thought irritated, feeling some of his own blood come seeping out of the side of where she had sewed him up. It wasn't bad, just a little trickle of blood. Gabriel didn't plan on telling Iavera about it, not wanting to bother her and not wanting to have the wound undressed. He didn't want to see how bad it was, and he was sure it was bad… Grunting to himself, he resettled himself down again. Iavera just rolled her eyes at him. _Men and their pride… if he opened his wound again, I'm going to knock him aside of the head. _she thought. He needed as much rest as he could, but it didn't look like he was going to cooperate at all with her. He was fidgeting constantly, probably trying to find the one comfortable spot where his side did not throb.

"Well, Gabriel Van Helsing. It seems I cannot leave you here… There are others who would wish harm on you, this I have no doubt." she said. Making up her mind, she knew she would have to wait this out. She was the only one stopping the other people from coming in here and chucking him out on the street, that and she was the one who was paying for his room and board, as well as her own. Money at least would keep them at bay. In helping achieve his freedom from the mongrels that had attacked him, she had made herself honor bound to make sure none of them came after him while he was weak and recovering. Standing from her chair, she stretched her arms and looked down at the man.

"Sleep… It will do you good."

"I know," he said with a small sigh, not liking the idea of staying bedridden for days, "You're probably right about that." Iavera gave him a perked eyebrow, and he only gave her back a small smile. Somehow she thought she could see sarcasm playing around in his dark eyes. Van Helsing looked over at the bedside table. Grabbing from it, he held in his hands one of his smaller pistols. Tucking it in next to him, he looked back to her with a grin.

"Don't worry, I'm down for the day. I just want to be prepared…" he said, taking another sip from vodka, then laying himself back down on the cot. A sigh escaped his lips as he lay there. He didn't hear her leave, but he knew she was no longer in the room with him. Most likely she went into her own separate room. Wondering if it was next to his, he let the thought slide as he closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

**Authors Note:** So it seemed Gabriel did survive, but where is he going to go once he is healed? And will Iavera ever let him get up from his bed? Heheh…

Yay I finished chapter three! This didn't take as long to write as I thought it would. It seems a little dull for a chapter, but I had to get it out of the way. Sorry for taking so long to post it. Also thank you CelticAurora, Shoysrock, and KissxTemptationx for the reviews! You guys make me want to keep writing this…


	4. Chapter 4 Arguments

**Authors Note: ***runs from bullets and random objects being tossed at her* eep I know it has been so long since I updated! ;-; I'm soooo sorry, but I fell out of discord with this story, and had some college troubles enough to where I didn't feel like writing at all… but, I got reminded about this story and suddenly felt an urge to start typing it up! ^^ thank you for those who are patient with me, and I hope you enjoy this chapter! I made it longer than the previous ones so that you will forgive me -.-; ^^

* * *

Chapter Four

Arguments

Closing the door with a click, the woman slipped out of the bedroom to let the man rest. He had had a trying night, and a good day's sleep would do him worlds good. His wounds would benefit from it more than if he was awake, and she hoped that he would recover soon. Iavera knew she would stay as long as he needed so that she could protect him, but she had problems of her own that needed to be taken care of. The trail would grow cold if she did not set out soon, but it couldn't be helped. _Another few months of traveling…just what I need…_she thought to herself. A quick stop in her room provided her with a pouch of money for supplies, and her ever faithful whip. The trouble makers from the night before could still be lurking around, and if she was to run into them, she wanted to make sure she was protected. Leaving her room, Iavera walked to the stairs and came down then at a relative pace, wincing slightly at the slice on her leg, eyeing a few people that had glanced her way before she made her way over to the keeper's bar tender. He looked frail and scrawny, but the glint behind in his eyes told her that he was more than he seemed. He eyed her suspiciously, looking her over as if contemplating something. Placing her hand on the counter, she leaned in with a look of malevolence in her eyes.

"Whatever you and your men are planning, I suggest you think otherwise…" she said, in a soft tone that hinted slightly at a threat. The man straightened up as if he was going to say something in rebuttal to her, his dark eyes flashing at her threat. She straightened her body, turning her head slightly to see the other men in the room. Each and every one of them was looking at her, poised as if they were to jump her at any second. She placed a hand on her hip, a small smirk coming to her face.

"He may be alone, but that man is _far_ from defenseless. If you value your lives, then I would leave him alone…" she said. Removing her hand, she turned and walked to the door, ignoring all of them who looked at her with malicious intend. They left her in peace, however, and as she entered into the sunlight, a smile came upon her lips. There were clouds above, but there was enough breaks in between them that the sun was allowed to filter onto the city. With no need for a cloak, Iavera had left it back in Gabriel's room across a chair, and was free to love the warmth on her face and body. People bustled about, going around to little shops and buying what they needed for the day. Merchants offered their wares to the passer buyers, showing in range from antique jewelry to exotic foods, to newly crafted weapons. All of it looked expensive, but none of these besides the food was of any use to the woman. She had in mind certain supplies that would be required for not only her own travels, but medical supplies for Gabriel and for herself.

One vendor caught her attention, and as she walked over to his little booth, she could see what had attracted her eye so willingly. It was a set of charms, necklaces… and crosses. There were several rosary beads lined up, each ranging in color from the purest white to the darkest red. Passing over them, Iavera came across a palm sized cross inlaid with a brass mixture. It looked like ivory, but by the price the man was giving, she knew it was no where near that well made. Handing him the amount he asked for, she tucked the cross away at her waist and turned away, continuing on to her true destination for traveling supplies. Who knew when the cross could come in handy?

A little over three hours passed before she had gathered enough supplies to last them for quite some time. Hauling it on her shoulder with a rucksack she had purchased, the woman walked her way back to the front of the inn. The sun was high in the sky now, it being a little passed noon, and she could feel the heat on her back despite the snow everywhere. The little stroll down the street had earned her some strange stares, most from people who thought her outfit was quite odd for a lady. Paying no attention to them, she used her free hand to push open the large double door before her and stepped inside. The men that had been there hours ago were now gone, and she hoped for good. The less annoyances the better. The floorboards creaked as she walked up the stairs, heading for her room and for Gabriel's. The sun had caused her to sweat slightly on her back, and as soon as she was within her own room, she hauled the sack off her back and dumped it on the bed. _I didn't think so many supplies would be that heavy…_she thought as she turned right around and walked next door.

"How do you fair?" she asked, once within the room as she closed the door behind her, making sure that it was locked so that they wouldn't be bothered with unnecessary interruptions. She could see that he was still laying on the bed, his shirt still removed so that she could more easily tend to his wounds in case she needed to. The look on his face gave her the answer to her question, even before he spoke up to her.

"Bored out of my bloody mind!" he said, annoyance and frustration at not being able to get up clear in his voice as it was snowy outside. He snorted slightly to himself in contempt, aggravated that he could not move from the bed, and that he had a practical stranger caring for him after he was humiliated. He didn't look at her for a few moments, sighing impatiently for a time before he gazed back at her,

"All I can do is sit and stare up at the ceiling…. Absolutely nothing to do at all, and even if I do get better, there isn't anything for me to do because I have nowhere to go…" he said grumpily, the last part more to himself than it was to her. He could see out of the corner of his eyes that she had moved to the table, taking a hold of the vodka bottle, looking as if she was considering on giving him more for the pain or not, which he wished she would. The searing pain in his side had dulled when alcohol had calmed his nerves, but not it throbbed angrily each time he took in a breath. Wincing slightly, he continued to look at her as she took one of the glasses and poured some of the alcohol, handing it to him, which he gladly accepted. He downed it rather quickly, feeling it burn all the way down his throat, coating the inside with numbness and finding that his pain was blessedly dimming. Closing his eyes for a second, Gabriel sighed, then looked at her, letting the glass rest on the bed beside him. She had her hands on her hips, a smirk on her face.

"What do you expect?" she said after giving a small laugh, "You can't very well get out of bed with your wound!" A few moments passed in silence as he sighed to himself, knowing that she was right but still not liking the idea of being stuck in one place for so long. Even a few days was dangerous for him, for any number of bounty hunters could be hunting him, even though he knew his path was destined to befall to one of them. _May others be as passionate in their hunting of you…_The memory trickled into his mind for a second before it disappeared, him shaking his head as he tried to forget it. So many times he had those past memories surface, and each time he tried his hardest to suppress them, rid them from himself… _But they always come back… _When he came back to reality, she was staring at him, looking as if her mind was searching for something, but to what he did not know. A few more moments passed before she spoke again, her voice inquiring to him,

"Surely the great Van Helsing has many bounties to carry out…?" she said, a little sarcasm also held within her tone. "Why not travel around and help those that are in need? You seem to be good at it…" she said. Iavera remembered the rumors she had heard about him on her travels, some not always good. Most she heard of him being a murderer, but there were others that told of his dealings with legendary creatures, and the saving of innocent lives. There were many, many stories about him, but from what she could see of him, laying there wounded and annoyed, that he at least felt pity for some of the things he had done, even if it was done for the best intentions. For that, she could commend him for his actions, for she knew that his heart was at least in the right place.

"You after all, were the one who slew Dracula…"

Gabriel twitched at the name, trying hard not to let more memories flood his mind. These five years he had committed to erasing those days from his mind seemed to do him no good, for just a mention of the past made it become all to real. The pain in his heart was still there, and it ached now just as much as it had then, but now with the dull reminder that it was himself who had caused the heartache. Sighing, he closed his eyes and laid his head back against the wooden headboard, opening his eyes once again to look at the ceiling, then out the window, seeing the sunshine coming in with light rays. They danced across the floor as the sun was hidden by clouds, then uncovered to let it shine once more.

"Somehow… now that I look back on that, I don't know if slaying him was really worth it…." he hesitated, knowing she might want further explanation, but not wanting to give it, "As for the bounty hunting… I've given that up. That part of the tale seldom gets around, and I'm tired of losing a little piece of myself with every person I 'save'." he said, the last word a little more emphasized, since most didn't see him as any kind of savior.

"I don't hunt outlaws, and I never did…" he said, sighing to himself once more. Everyone he had gone after had been someone who had a different side to them that had been forced upon them by some force of nature, or by another creature. When he hunted werewolves, it was innocent men and women who had been forced to change, and gargoyles were poor creatures cast in stone by day and wandering the night forever lonely. He felt pity for a few when they reverted to their human nature, and it was these humans that others found, most of the time dead, and that was why he was always called a murderer…

"Why stop what you are good at? If it frees the world of evil, then it is an honorable thing to do…" said the fire headed woman, still watching him closely. She could see he was dealing with inner turmoil once again, and for him to recover, he needed to be positive, not sulking and worrying about something that had happened in the past. Why should he stop what he was doing? Why not rid the world of evil, why not save those that are innocent that would perish without his help? It seemed beyond reason to her to why he would stop such a gallant, heroic mission where there were so many who needed to be saved in the world. Iavera's body turned rigid as she looked at him, a spark of anger in her eyes, mixed with pity and stubbornness.

"Don't stop because of what other people thing! You do these things to protect the innocent, yes?" she asked him, knowing that he would not want to answer her. He seemed to want to keep his feelings inside of him, not showing them so that he would not appear weak to her. It was understandable, but to mope about because of something that happened was a foolish thing to do. One couldn't deal with their past problems unless confronted with them to their face. The woman knew she would have to help him somehow, because he didn't seem inclined to go the distance by himself. But then, her eyes softened to him as she pulled an apple from her pocket, tossing it to him, which he caught in his hand by reflex.

"Eat…" she said simply. However, he seemed to ignore that he had food in his hand, still concentrating on what she had said to him. His own stubbornness began to show through, as he was adamant about his decision, even though he knew she would disagree with his ways and thoughts.

"I don't care what people think! I'm giving it up, all of it, or at least I'm trying to.." he hesitated, "Every time I kill someone I lose a bit of myself there and if there's one thing I learned on my last adventure was that just because someone or something is not human or is different, that they are bad… It's very difficult to judge who is good or bad these days…" said Gabriel, his voice dimming slightly at the end. The argument was eating away his energy from his sleep, but he seemed to ignore it. He could feel pain seeping back into him, and not from his wound. It didn't look like she would understand what he was trying to say. Even the Vatican had marveled at his decision, and when he had suddenly left, they had sent out numerous letters to try and get a hold of him, none of which he ever returned, or even looked at. After the last mission, he had forbade himself from ever going back there, or contacting them. Nothing was worth feeling that pain again, and even now he wished the brutes from the previous night had finished him off… _Why must He be so cruel? _Van Helsing thought to himself. Closing his eyes, he rested his back against the headboard again, tired from the feelings he had, and tired from pain.

The entire time he was speaking, the woman had sat down, and listened to him, not interrupting. She was silent, not speaking, but really hearing what he was saying. There was a hidden truth behind his words, and it made her wonder what had happened to him for him to feel so strongly about his decision. It seemed to tug at her heartstrings, this hidden secret of his, enough to where her appearance seemed softer, even in the sweet sunlight. Even though she understood what he was saying, however, Iavera was not giving up the fact that _he _was giving up this great gift to help protect those who could not defend themselves. Scooting her chair slightly closer to him, she leaned forwards a little.

"It seems you have lost something dear to you... I can tell by the way you speak your words…" she said softly to him, which caused him to look slightly away from her. _I'm right… and it must hurt him terribly…_she thought. Iavera's face brightened, however, and she sat up straighter, slapping her hands on her knees to get his attention.

"Well, my friend, it seems you have found a new traveling companion!" she said, a smirk playing across her face. Despite having a problem of her own to deal with, the woman felt like that if she didn't watch out for this man, make sure he healed and that he recovered more than just physically, that no one else would. _He needs the chance to recover his mind and body, to remember that there is always a brighter side to life… _Gabriel looked surprised at her opinionated statement, a brow lifting in wonder at why she would say such a thing. It seemed odd that after knowing him for less than twenty four hours, she would advocate herself to his traveling companion.

"Really?" he asked, a little sarcastic, but he could not hide the surprised sound in his tone. "Very interesting…. And what makes you think I need or would want someone to tag along?" he asked, not liking the idea of having to deal with someone when he just wanted to be left alone.

"Besides, you're a woman and where I go is far too dangerous for someone like you…" he said, thinking that even though she had helped him the night before, that she would not be able to handle what his tasks were, even though he knew himself that he wasn't going to be doing anything of the like any time soon. It was just a bluff to get her to reconsider her statement, and he hoped that it worked. There was an ulterior motive for his words, and if she knew what the entire story was of those five years ago, she might be a little more hesitant than she was. _I can't kill someone else… no more. _

"The display the other night was impressive, I will give you that. But I hardly think you should even dare to tread where I go." An immediate huff echoed from her lips at him, the stubbornness in her eyes returning. She seemed to be at an equal level when it came to each other's refusal to do anything that they didn't deem fit. Iavera was not about to have his stereotypical male mind thing that she couldn't do the same as him. Women, it seemed, were to be portrayed as a helpless damsel who needed a man to save her. If she had been anything besides a human, the woman was sure she would have growled at him for his accusations of her apparent womanly weakness.

"Woman or not, I feel you would be reckless and get yourself killed far to easily if someone was not with you…" she said, hands returning to the hips. The smirk returned, and so did a mischievous look about her eyes. Gabriel winced slightly as a jolt of pain ran through is wound. She was being stubborn as hell, but he had to admire to the fact that she was not like most women… _She reminds me a lot of you Anna…but you were far more stubborn than she could ever be…_he thought, chuckling to himself. Raising a brow, the woman looked at him for a few moments, then spoke,

"No matter your words or feelings, I will be traveling with you, so you might as well get used to it, Van Helsing." Iavera took out a second apple, hidden within a different pocket of her vest, and bit a chunk of it off. She could see that he hadn't even touched the one she had given him, so she nodded her head to indicate it.

"Eat, you need your strength." she said, taking another bite. The woman had nothing more to say on either subject, so she sat back, chewing silently, willing to ignore any further protest by him. Gabriel looked down at the apple still in his hand, sighing, but refusing to admit defeat without a little of a comeback. He thought about the long travels ahead, having to put up with her and deal with her authorative attitude. He lifted the apple in his hand, taking out a bite and chewing it, finding it rather tasty, considering the most he had to eat wasn't even food. It had been alcohol. He couldn't even remember the last thing he had eaten that actually tasted good, not really even bothering to eat as he traveled unless he needed to keep going.

"You're rather bossy, you know that?" he said, snickering to himself when he saw a slight glare come from the woman, "You're lucky I'm shot. Otherwise I'd have more to say on this matter." he took another bite, "And you can count on it that you'll be hearing more of it sooner or later. But, I guess I can't stop you coming with…" his voice turned tired for a moment, but perked up when sat up a little straighter, looking directly at her.

"If you lag behind, you get left behind. I don't want to hear any complaining."

Smiling to herself, Iavera felt like she had won their little argument, even if he wanted to continue to complain about her decision. She would listen and obey his conditions to their travels, even though she wouldn't completely listen to everything he wanted to say. She knew how to take care of herself, for sure, and he would see in time that she could. More than a defenseless woman, she could take care of herself quite well when the situation called for it, as he had seem himself the night before. She was even able to patch him up and save his life, a skill that had come handy as she grew up. Finishing the apple all the way down to the core, she bite off the top and bottom, eating the entire thing and leaving nothing behind. Traveling had taught her to eat everything she could, for supplies could run low if one did not use all that one had available. Wasting food in this cold winter wasn't very smart, so it was common for her to finish whatever food was put before her. It was a handy trick to survival. Standing up, she walked over to the small window, still feeling the sun coming from it as she wiped her mouth from the apple's juices. Down in the street below, she could still see people bustling about. Turning her head back to him while leaning against the window sill, she spoke up.

"Your wound will need another few days for your body to even try to handle traveling, yes?" Gabriel nodded, knowing that a wound to the stomach would need more healing than other areas. For one, it was where the major vital organs were, and damage to them took longer to recover to say a knife wound in the arm. He was lucky that he hadn't bled out from nicking an artery or major blood vessel. Had that been the case, he wouldn't have been laying there in the bed, recovering. Van Helsing was sure he would be in some unmarked grave, with the townsfolk having dishonored his body by mutilating it as they always did with any murderer in their eyes. Since he would have been dead, a lynching wouldn't have worked, so the next best thing would to be savage the body. A shudder ran through him, causing him to wince again, but he thanked the stars she didn't see him do it.

"Tell me about how you defeated Dracula…"

The question took him off guard, with a sudden rush of not wanting to talk about him. But, it seemed that he had nothing to do but talk, so what was the harm? The question was innocent enough, in his eyes, and he was sure she wanted to keep him occupied, since he had said he had been bored out of his mind. Maybe the whole argument had been spun from her trying to give him something to do? It was most unlikely. Sighing, he started to tell her.

"Well… it turns out nothing what so ever can kill him. People have tried to stake him through the heart, pour holy water on his unholy skin, shoot him, club him, place crucifix's in his presence, and nothing ever worked…" Gabriel thought to himself, at least knowing why maybe he attacked them after such attempts. Anyone would be sore at anyone for having them to try and kill them. He himself didn't like the fact that people tried to kill him, so in a strange way, he could relate to the deceased vampire. Van Helsing continued,

"But… Dracula owned a cure for the curse of the werewolf, and we… I wondered why he would have such a thing in his castle. It turns out that the only thing that could kill him was in fact a werewolf, one that was not fully changed before its first full moon…" Continuing, he explained of how he turned into a werewolf from a scratch from one who was under the service of the vampire king, and how he was able to finally destroy him with a swipe to the throat by his claws. Gabriel purposely left out the fact of Anna and her brother, not wanting to bring them up for his own personal reasons. She would get the gist of the story without those facts, so why put them in?

During the entire story, the woman had sat back down and listened to him, not interrupting him as she leaned forward as if to hear him better. At his mention of a cure to the curse of the _loup garou, _her eyes widened slightly, but she immediately reposed her face. Iavera was shocked from what he was telling her. From all the legends she had heard as a child, and even now, all had told of the vampire king being invincible and forever immortal. Not once had she heard of a way for him to be destroyed, and certainly had she never heard a tale of him being killed by another legend, a werewolf. It was all incredulous, but the tales of the mighty Van Helsing had been true. She began to wonder how he had survived such an encounter, but to ask such a thing would belittle what he felt he had done, so she kept her mouth shut. Tilting her head slightly, she spoke to herself more than to him.

"That is very interesting…" she said, then to him, "How could you have possibly defeated such a powerful vampire? Even as a werewolf, he must have been incredibly strong…" she said. Gabriel nodded in affirmation to her inquiry.

"He was strong, but I was rather determined you see… I couldn't let him continue to kill innocent people. His plan was more than to just rule from his castle. He wanted to give life to his children, which were born dead. If that ever happened, thousands upon thousands of innocent lives would be hunted down for food… I couldn't let that happen…" he said, trailing off at the end. Anna's family had also been in danger, but again he refused to speak of her. It was his way of attempting to forget about her, even if his heart protested.

"He was also said to be the son of the devil himself. Such an evil creature could not be allowed to live. The Vatican had ordered his destruction, and I was their hand in doing so. Although…" he thought to himself, wondering something that seemed to pop in his mind now, of all the times to do so, "it makes me wonder. He had made a deal with the devil when he first became the monster he was… I hope he could not do it again…" The thought of that evil being being allowed to walk the earth once again was almost to haunting to think about. Dracula would have been out for blood literally if ever a thing was to occur, but he knew that it was very unlikely for such a thing to happen. Iavera spoke up, which made him start to wonder again.

"It makes sense, after all. If Dracula had made a pact with the devil to become immortal, and he's in Hell again… he might come back to seek vengeance on those who kill him…" she hesitated, "including you." If that was true, then it would be dangerous for her to travel with him, even with the promise she had given of making sure he healed. Crossing the path with a being bent on destruction was never wise, especially since she would be caught in the crossfire and having done nothing to provoke him. By simple association she could be killed… In any case, Dracula or no, she would not let him wander by himself in what appeared to be his vulnerable state. She had to think on the bright side, with the fact that he wouldn't come back to kill Gabriel, and that the pair was being paranoid of something that could not happen. Instead of making the man worry, a softer smile came across her face, the smile itself giving warmth and comfort to the torn man.

"He could just remain dead, for all we know…" she said. Gabriel didn't seem to be to worried about the idea, however. A snicker came from him, as a glint of his own mischievousness flickered across his dark eyes. He shifted in his bed, trying to keep any one part of his body from becoming numb by laying on it. He wanted his blood to flow freely to help speed the healing process, so the sooner he could get well, the sooner he could leave.

"You seem to have quite an interest in him… I suppose he could be charming for a vampire… His brides adored that monster, and they were gorgeous women, despite the fangs and lust for blood. Probably quite the compliment to be chosen by him…" he said, snickering at her for the face she made. It was one of pure horror and appall. To be interested in such a demonic being as Dracula made he want to shudder. Even so, a rose hue appeared on her fair skin. She huffed at him for his remark.

"I am not interested in Dracula… How dare you think something so vile?!" she huffed again. Iavera had to take a few minutes to calm her temper down, as she didn't want to have it flare before him. Taking quite a few breaths, the anger slid from her body as she calmed herself, but contempt was still in her eyes as she looked at him.

"I'm sure vampires would adore him, but to me he is the epitome of evil… just as any immortal would be…" she said, crossing her arms, "and anyway…" she said, trying to change the subject when she could see a spark of laughter in his eyes, "What do you think you will find in the East? There must be something you want there, or you would not travel such a dangerous road…" The laughter in his eyes dulled quickly as seriousness took over his form once again. The time for aggravating his new companion had passed, and he glanced away from her, trying to act nonchalant about it. It appeared a fake kind of calmness that she could tell immediately. But instead of calling him on it, she considered the fact that whatever he sought might be more personal than he was willing to admit.

"Oh, I don't know… maybe to just visit a grave or a house and remember old times. Embrace the good memories that I still have, even if it was in the darkest place on earth. To Transylvania I go, most likely…we go, I guess if you have the nerves to venture into such territory…" he smirked at her, wondering if she would take the bait again to argue. He tempted it before her, trying to flare the temper he had seen earlier in the hopes that she would stomp off or leave to where he would have the chance of going without her. In his words, she could hear the temptation. He was actually teasing her, daring her to a come back! _Well, I can't exactly back down from it, can I? _she thought to herself, the same smirk playing across her own face for him. Standing straight, a hand on her hip, which she seemed to be doing a lot in his presence, she lifted her head slightly to look down at him.

"I told you already, Van Helsing, that the matter had been decided? I'm traveling with you, whether you like it or not…" her voice dared for him to take her bait, and it seemed to be working, for she could see that he was already thinking of something to say. If anything, their arguments would make the trip a lot more interesting, and slightly less boring to hand. Before he could speak up, however, she continued, wondering what his reaction would be to the news she would give him.

"We leave in three days…"

"Again, you are very bossy… come in here telling me when to eat, when we are leaving, and that you decide to come with me. Are you going to tell me what to do and say next? What to eat as well?" he said, but instead of his voice being angered as most men would be, he seemed to be amused by the fact of her being so demanding. In a small sort of way, he was relieved that she was not some whiney girl that happened to tag along, but that she had a good head on her shoulders. Although annoying, Iavera didn't seem too bad a of a person to have company with. She laughed at his words, hearing the amusement in them. Now she just knew this trip would be more interesting.

"No, unless you cannot manage those on your own?" she said, eyes alight with tempting of a retort. When he gave none, she laughed again and grabbed her cloak she had left draped across the back of her chair. With it slung over her shoulder, she walked across to the door and grabbed the handle.

"My room is next door. I won't be far away… You need to rest if we plan on leaving here in those three days.. Sleep well." she said with a smile, turning and walking into the hall, closing the door behind her and heading to her own room. Gabriel was left alone in the room once again, but this time he had food for thought. It would definitely be interesting to travel with Iavera, and he felt slightly brighter than he had been for a very long time. In his heart he was still mourning, but maybe this journey could lighten his soul enough to let him see what good he did in the world, instead of just feeling like what others called him, a murderer.

"Wonder if I can leave before she does…" he snickered, laying his body down more so that he could rest more peacefully…

* * *

**Authors Note: **Phew! That was a long chapter to type, but I'm glad I got it done… I know it's a lot of arguing back and forth between them, but it had to happen some time and well, now seemed like a good time for their two different personalities to clash. Next time, they actually get to travel for a change of scenery!! =D YAY!! I will try and get the next chapter out as soon as I can, but college is being a stickler right now… lots o reading for homework.. Yada yada… SO, please r&r! ^^ p.s. there are probably some spelling mistakes because currently at this point, its past 2am so forgive me lol ^^;


End file.
